Before Ellen had concluded her little harangue, every servant in the house stood listening, open-mouthed and eager as hounds on the scent. Of course, they understood all about it quite as well as she did, but thirsting for more, asked innumerable questions, to which Ellen shook her head solemnly, and declared that nothing could induce her to give one hint of what had been said in the strictest confidence; it would be awfully mean if she did, and her friend who had lived so close to the New Haven College that she could almost speak Latin, would never forgive her, never! With an impressive emphasis on the last word, Ellen gave her head a consequential fling, and went up-stairs in answer to Mrs. Judson’s bell, which had rung more than once. She found Mrs. Judson sitting quietly in her easy-chair, looking pale and harassed, but in both speech and manner self-possessed as usual. “Ellen,” she said, reaching forth some streamers of black crape and white ribbon, “you will see that these are properly arranged for the door. You will be sorry to hear that there will be a funeral here.” “Dead! oh, dear! how dreadful!” sobbed Ellen, lifting a corner of her muslin apron half-way to her eyes and dropping it again. “Please, madam, where did she die, and what of!” Mrs. Judson was not prepared to answer these very natural questions, so she swept them away with a mournful wave of her hand. Ellen took the crape and busied herself in arranging the ribbon. Mrs. Judson watched her quietly. She was very sad, and the shock of the morning affected her nerves so much that she started when Ellen spoke again. “Excuse me, ma’am, but _is_ cholera catching after the person is dead?” “The cholera!” faltered the lady. “No, I should think not; but why do you ask?” Ellen remembered Jane Kelly’s charge of secrecy, and struggled hard to obey it. “Oh, nothing—I only happened to be thinking that—that, perhaps—dear me! I never thought anything of the kind, only the neighbors, ma’am, might, from its suddenness, think it was something like cholera that took her off. If they do, what shall we servants say?” “Say that you do not know; that will be right,” answered Mrs. Judson, struck with an idea that there might be safety in this supposition, yet unwilling to suggest a falsehood in words. “Just as if we didn’t know all about it,” muttered Ellen, as she went down-stairs with the crape streamers in her hand. “Law! she might as well attempt to keep the wind from blowing as the whole neighborhood not finding out. The moment this is seen at the door, won’t we have calls from every basement in the block? Well, I haven’t told a word, anyhow.”